Flaming
by greyhorizon
Summary: Follow up to Wicked Wind and Dark 'n' Stormy. This time we're playing with fire. Drunk trope. Thea's birthday party, drunkenness ensues. Oliver may or may not gravitate towards a certain blonde, high-heeled genius, who's he's fighting to stay away from. Plus Mr Diggle joins us (which automatically makes our Arrow glasses half-full, I say) - Grey
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Hi - quick topnote: not sure if 'doona' translates for all. It's like a quilt, or comforter. Awesome, snuggly word though - Grey.**

* * *

He just wanted to kiss her. It was all he could think about, really.

He'd tried to get it out - extract it with punches, excise it with arrows, dispel it with gut-blowing running, wood-shattering pummelling, merciless sparring.

The criminals of Starling were not having a good week; a side effect of the determination, the single-minded focus, of not trying to think about kissing her.

But each time the adrenaline ebbed, each time he walked up the Foundry steps to go home to the mansion, it came at him like a gale.

He'd officially pandora-boxed himself. Fuck.

He was screwed.

Guilty.

Self-flagellating.

Knew nothing could ever come from it.

Excited.

Fuck.

And he hadn't even seen her.

* * *

Felicity pulled her cloud-covered doona up under her chin, and reached for another tissue. Red nose, greasy hair roots, two day old pajamas. Couch as her day-bed. Early season 3 of The West Wing her companion.

Stupid Josh. Why wouldn't he just admit how he felt about Donna. Stupid men.

Felicity's nose blow turned into a hacking, rib shuddering series of coughs. Stupid cold.

Felicity's epiphanic moment of _'perhaps I'm not the cheeriest sick person'_ was cut short by her doorbell.

Of-friggin-course. Could she just not be left alone to die in misery? Was it too much to ask?

Self-pityingly sighing as she sat up, head a little swimmy, then steadying. She pushed herself to standing, doona sliding off her small frame, pink pajamas sticking where she had sweated through.

Daisy fresh, she thought, as she stumbled to her front door.

If this was Oliver, she'd already decided she would slam the door in his face and go back to couchland. Three days since - the incident - and not one word.

She'd texted the next morning to let him know she was sick, and had received a pedestrian, 'okay, feel better.'

Okay, feel better?! Not a _'sorry I kissed you.'_ Or a _'we really need to talk.' _Or a _'you've probably got some questions about what the hell's going on with me and why I kissed you on your front porch and then walked away and drove off into the night?'_

Fury broke through her fogged consciousness as she yanked open her front door.

To find the wrong Queen.

'Oh for fuck's sake,' Felicity muttered under her breath. More audibly, 'Not now, Thea.'

Thea's mouth dropped open, spilling her planned upbeat greeting.

'Geez, what side of bed did you fall out of? Not my brother's, obviously.'

Felicity, arm barring entry, glared through smudged glasses. She really was feeling disgusting. She should probably take a shower. Eh, effort she rather expend on glaring at the mischief-maker and architect of her current condition.

Thea rallied, addicted to having her own way.

'I brought soup,' she said, indicating the covered earthenware bowl in her slender, manicured hands.

'Uh-huh.'

'Raisa made it for you. It's her old family recipe. Made with love.'

Felicity blinked her un-impressedness, but in her heart, was touched by Raisa's mothering.

'Uh-huh.'

'Said I wasn't to leave until you'd finished every last drop. Would make you feel better in no time.'

Felicity sighed. Standing draining her energy. Scratch that, Thea draining her energy.

'Fine, come in. Just don't say or do anything to piss me off, because I'm sick, and cranky, and in no mood for Queens.'

Thea's face reflected fake trepidation as she walked past Felicity and into the apartment, perusing colourful, obscure objects as she passed.

'So what did Oliver do?'

'The-a,' sounded in warning, as Felicity padded back to her couch and fell into her spot, hoisting her safety doona back over her.

'No, seriously. I mean, I know why you're pissed at me, because of the whole locked you on the roof in the rain and now you're sick and in dire need of personal hygiene. But why are you mad at Ollie? I thought you'd forgiven him for the protecting-of-your-virtue-from-Bruce-Wayne thing?'

'My virtue did not need protect-...nothing happened with Bruce, and your brother and I are fine.'

'But you just said-'

'Thea! Just pour me the damn soup so I can eat it and go back to dying,' Felicity croaked.

Thea smiled. 'Fine, but this conversation isn't over.'

Felicity groaned and pulled the doona over her head, as Thea bounced into the kitchen and pinged open the microwave.

'So, what are you wearing to my party on Saturday?' Thea yelled from the kitchen.

Doona was dramatically folded down from face in a puffed oomph.

'What?'

'My birthday party. On Saturday. What are you coming as?'

'Thea, I know I'm hallucinatory right now, but I have no idea what you are talking about,' Felicity's voice cracking at the end.

Silence. Then end ping.

Thea, with oven mitts cradling the hot bowl as she came back into the living room, spoon rising from the deep red-orange soup.

'Birthday party. Saturday. You told me you were coming a few days ago.'

'When?' Felicity, truly confused.

'When I invited Bruce. You said you were coming. He can't make it, but you said you would.' If tone could be puppy-dog eyes.

'Thea, I'm sick.'

'You'll be right by Saturday,' Thea pollyanna'd. 'My costume is awesome, by the way!'

'It's costumed?'

'Of course!' Thea reached into her purse and flounced out a flame-cut invitation.

Felicity took the proffered card and looked at it in bemusement.

'Too Hot to Handle?'

'I know - isn't it great? And everything will be fire-themed.' Thea's arm arced, conjuring. 'The decorations, the entertainment, all the guests - I've even found a way to light the fountains!'

'You're turning water to fire?' Felicity shook her head, smiling despite herself. Trust nature itself to bend to Thea's will. Honestly, what hope did she have? 'I'll see how I go. But, I can't promise I'll be better, Thea.'

'You'll be fine. And Raisa's a miracle worker when it comes to her soup. You'll feel better in no time.'

Felicity took the bowl and gently eased back into the cushions of the couch. Petered.

Thea allowed Felicity two spoonfuls before she fired off again. 'So, what's gone on with you and my brother? I've barely seen him the last few days.'

'Thea, nothing has gone on. I'm sick and he's busy. End of story.' Felicity slurped loudly as an extra full stop.

'Uh-huh.'

'Keep going and I'll cough on you.'

'Well, aren't you Miss threats-alot lately? Although catching your cold pales in comparison to the other day. It was both cruel and unusual for you to threaten to post all my old love emails to Justin Bieber online.'

Felicity laugh-coughed soup. 'Yeah, well, you deserved it. Locking me and Oliver up on the roof. What were you thinking?'

'I was twelve!'

'It was three days ago.'

'I mean, during my love-struck phase that shall never be mentioned.'

'Don't worry, we all have our unmentionables, Thea. I mean, not the underwear, I mean, we do have those, but-'

'Who was yours?'

'Not telling.' Felicity's mouth clamped over her spoon.

'C'mmmoonn.'

'Nope.' Cough. Sip.

Barriers significantly down, Thea approached a different front.

'So, has Ollie been here to check on you?'

Felicity felt an uneasy heart lurch, a slight flush. Thea's question a bit too close for home, about the man who hadn't come close to her home.

'No, he's been busy, like I said.'

'Hmmmn, interesting.'

'Why is that interesting?'

'Just that, I thought he may have, since he can't normally seem to operate without you. I mean, you guys are always together.'

Hanging innuendo.

Felicity not taking the hook. 'Thea. Enough.'

'Okay, okay.' Thea huffed her end of efforts and shoved herself back into the cushions on the other side of the couch, grabbing for doona end.

'What are we watching?'

'Thea, I don't want you to get sick.'

'Oh, don't worry, I rarely do. And I told you, Raisa's soup is a cure-all. Sooo?'

'The West Wing. Season 3.'

'Ooohh - good Josh and Donna vibing, right?'

'You've seen it?'

'Where do you think I've been? Trapped on an island for five years?'

'Tell me you don't say that to your brother,' Felicity half-heartedly admonished, all too aware of what her own comment had precipitated that rainy night. Falling into the memory of the kiss again.

'Well, if we don't laugh, we cry, right?' Thea's voice flickering through.

'Right.' Felicity pressed play on the remote, and the two girls snuggled in, pinioned by doona, balancing ends of the couch.

* * *

Dig winced and pressed a tentative two fingers to his temple.

Rising slowly from his kneeled position on the mats, using the long fighting stick as a staff like an old, weary traveller.

'Seriously, Oliver?'

The chest-heaving, sweat-cloaked blonde man looked across the blue mat, knowing his wrongdoing, belligerent anyway.

The older warrior was having none of it. 'Oliver, man, we're just sparring. You're acting like you're in a match to the death.'

Oliver regarded his friend, blinked, and notched down.

'Sorry.'

Dig sighed, and leaned his bulk on the staff, deciding it was time.

'So what happened?'

'I don't want to talk about it.'

Kind face nodding, deep brown eyes brooking no quarter.

'Oliver, you've been off since the night of the storm. And I know Felicity hasn't been around-'

'I don't want to talk about it.' Oliver walking away, placing the weaponed stick back in its stand.

Dig looked to Oliver's feet, smiling wryly.

'So. What happened?'

'I kissed her, okay!' A blast of guilt, a shield of indignation.

'And?' Dig-chilled.

Oliver turned around, a half dervish.

'I. Kissed. Her. I kissed Felicity.'

'Yeah, Oliver, about time.' Unsurprised. A fact of nature. 'What are you going to do about it?'

Oliver looked at Dig, noncomprehending how his friend couldn't see.

'I've ruined everything.'

'Or, you've started something,' Dig's sonorous, calm voice.

'I can't, Dig. Not living the life that I lead.'

'That's bullshit Oliver. Felicity is already part of this life. And you obviously feel something for her. So if you ask me, the only thing that will ruin...this team...is for you to go on pretending like everything is in your control, and ignoring how you feel about her.'

'I'm trying to protect her Dig.'

'By staying away? By drilling yourself to the bone? It's been three days and you're exhausted. How long do you think you can keep this up?'

'For as long as it takes.' Helmut down on his rusted suit of armour.

Dig stood to full height, regarding the determined man he chose to follow, knowing he couldn't lead him. Oliver would have to find his own way through.

Dig sighed. He knew it wouldn't be a simple way.

'Okay man,' he said, walking over to stand his own stick. 'I'm heading home.'

Oliver nodded a wordless goodbye. Dig's words echoing, scraping his own patched-over concern.

Just how long could he keep this up?


	2. Chapter 2

**So, busy week. But I did have my second surf lesson down at Torquay on a beautiful, sunny Saturday, and am proud to say, sucked less. So there's that. - Grey**

* * *

'Over there!' Thea yell-instructed, clipboard to purple brocaded breast, Queen bee to drones.

The Queen estate flurried with workers erecting her vision - ladders propped, stage mounted, sound checked, tables dotted - a lawned minicity swarming with purpose.

'Speedy! What's up?' Tommy sauntered from his midnight blue sportscar towards the commanding brunette, open necked shirt, dark sunglasses in place against the brightness of the day.

'Oh, hi Tommy. 'Up' is getting ready for the party tonight. What are you doing here?'

'I could tell you that I've come to help with the manual labour, but we both know that's untrue,' Tommy smirked.

Thea rolled her eyes and began to walk up the path towards the mansion, Tommy in tow.

'So Merlyn, why are you really here?'

'Well, I just wondered if you'd seen or heard from your brother in the last few days. He's not answering my calls.'

'No, sorry,' Thea said distractedly, 'I've been busy with all this party planning. I haven't seen him.'

Tommy pursed his lips, nodding, holding open the oak front door as a line of waiting staff paraded past.

Thea stopped and swivelled, brow angling down, clipboard dropped away. 'Why, are you worried?'

'Me? Noooo,' Tommy deflected. 'Just that I needed to talk to him about our costumes for tonight and, you know, it's been a few days.'

'I'm sure he's fine, Tommy. Felicity said he's been really busy, and he hadn't even had time to visit her.'

'What do you mean?'

'Oh. She got...,' Thea paused, bracing for it, 'a very mild cold. A sniffle really.'

Tommy whooped, laughter bursting. 'After youuuu stuck her up on the roof. She must be pissed!'

Thea glared back at him as she walked down the hallway to the kitchen, agile-ing around working bodies like a dodgeball virtuoso.

'She was - somewhat unimpressed, and in dire need of a shower, can I just say - but I her brought her some soup, and we hung out a bit, and she's fine now.'

'You made soup?' Tommy's voice read: did I step into an alternate reality?

'It was Raisa's soup, obviously. And, it worked, cos she texted me yesterday to say she's feeling much better and will be able to make it tonight. So we're cool.'

Tommy wouldn't be budged from unconvinced. 'I can't believe she forgave you so fast. If you tried that stunt with me and got me sick, I would hunt you down and make you pay,' he said, poking her collarbone on the last three words.

'God, get off me Merlyn. I'm not a little kid anymore.' Slapping at his poking.

'Awww, twentieth birthdays aside, you'll always be an annoying little kid to me, Speedy,' he cajoled, ruffling her perfect hair as she screeched and ducked away from him, running backwards into the kitchen.

She knocked into the bench and around a exiting worker; Tommy following in hot pursuit, a clasp of grapes scooped from the crystal fruit bowl.

'Tommy, stop! Don't you dare,' Thea warned, pointing at him from the other side of the kitchen.

Tommy smiled innocently. And started pelting her with pale green missiles.

'God, Tommy!' Thea scampered from the squishy onslaught, trying stern, wanting to laugh.

'Grapes of wrath, little one.'

Tommy snorted at Thea's _'that was terrible_' look. He pitched another grape at her and bounced it off her forehead.

He felt his equilibrium topple as his ear was yanked down by an unseen hand, head following ear, body following head.

'Mr Tommy. What are you doing in my kitchen?'

'Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow,' he intoned, caught, pained.

Thea laughed delightedly and scooted safely onto a bench stool, picking orphaned grapes from the bowl and popping them in her mouth as she settled in to watch the show.

'I said, what are you doing in my kitchen?' Raisa asked, jerking on Tommy's viced ear.

'Sorry, Raisa, I shouldn't have thrown food.' Tommy's body angled over as he tried to drop to alleviate the pain.

'No you shouldn't have, Mr Tommy. And?'

'And...I won't do it again?' Tommy began to ease up to his height, testing the forgiveness of the stern woman beside him in inches.

His head was jerked downwards again.

'And?'

'Ow!' Tommy looked imploringly at Thea, who was grinning and swinging in her seat. She threw a grape at his head.

'Hey!...ow-ow-ow, okay. And...I'll clean it up?' he half-shrugged, pitching in the dark.

'Yes you will, Mr Tommy,' Raisa released his ear, and wiped her hands on her red apron.

She turned back to the bench and began laying out fresh ingredients from cotton shopping bags.

Tommy stood there, unsure. Raisa turned, raised her eyebrow at him, and he dropped to the floor on hands and knees, collecting discarded grapes.

The kitchen door swung open and Oliver walked in, running a hand wearily over his scalp.

'Hey Raisa. Hey Thea. How's all the party stuff going?' Oliver asked back over his shoulder as he headed towards the fridge. He stumbled, tripping over Tommy's hand outreached for an errant grape.

'Jesus Tommy, what are you doing down there?'

Thea snickered.

'Picking up grapes,' Tommy's muffled reply.

Oliver smiled, bemused. 'Can I ask why, or do I not want to know?'

'Had a grape fight.'

'So, yeah, I didn't want to know.'

Tommy stood up carefully, hands cupping a mound of grapes, and walked to the bin to discard. Raisa glanced around the floor and nodded to Tommy, releasing him from his servitude.

Oliver shook his head as he opened a chilled water plucked from the fridge, and downed it in gulps, throat working, head tilted back.

'Geez, thirsty much Ollie? What have you been doing?' Thea asked, gaze taking in his wired state.

'Ah, just a workout. Nothing...special.'

Tommy perched himself on the stool next to Thea. 'Where have you been man? You haven't gotten back to me for days.'

'Ah sorry, just really busy.'

'So I heard. Thea said she hasn't seen you, and you hadn't even been by to check on Felicity.'

Oliver stilled. Failing nonchalant. 'You, ah, went to see Felicity?' he asked his sister, replacing the cap on the empty water bottle.

Thea's eyes narrowed ever so slightly at her brother's demeanour.

'Yes.' Vaulting her information. Seeing how much he was willing to work for it.

Oliver bit his lips together and nodded, meandering slightly as he neared the kitchen bench. Tommy, sensing interesting, kept quiet, the sound of Raisa pounding dough the only noise filling the room.

Thea popped another grape in her mouth.

Oliver reached for a grape of his own. 'So...how is she?'

'Fine.'

Tommy harnessed his laugh, cottoning on.

'So, she's feeling better?' Oliver attempted again.

'Yes.' Rare Thea of the monosyllable.

'That's good.' Breaking skin, spritzing juice.

'Yes.'

Oliver looked around the room, then back at Thea. Golden brows raised, 'So...is she coming tonight?'

'Why?' Thea brow raised back.

'What do you mean, why? I was just asking.' Awkward tone, awkward shrug.

'I mean, Ollie, why aren't you asking her yourself? You two are constantly on the phone to each other. I thought you'd know her movements.'

'Oh...I've...I just- wanted to leave her alone to get some rest, you know, to get better.'

Thea looked him up and down, considering.

'Well, she's better now, Ollie, so you can call and ask her yourself.'

Oliver stared at his sister, not buying her guileless response.

'Right. I'll do that. Thanks.'

'No problemo, big bro. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a birthday party to get ready for.' Thea swivelled off the bench seat, clipboard clasped, and strode from the kitchen, all industry.

Two sets of eyes followed her departing form, then met in mutual 'let's move on' understanding.

'So, what were you trying to get a hold of me for?' Oliver asked.

Tommy smiled, hands out, salesman-like.

'Well, you know how you put me in charge of costumes?'

Oliver vaguely remembered something.

'Yeah, sure.'

'Weeeeellllllll, I've kinda made an executive decision. Since you didn't return my calls.'

'Tom-my.' Years of misadventures jostling to the fore.

'Don't worry. You're gonna love it.'

Oliver closed his lids in foreshadowed regret; re-opening to his friend's wide, charming smile.

Uncharmed, he sighed out the air from his body, and gave up.

'Well, I'm heading upstairs for a shower. I'll see you later on,' Oliver clapped his hand on Tommy's shoulder as he passed.

Tommy grabbed the last of the tortured grapes from the bowl, flung it into the air, and captured it in his mouth.

Laughing victoriously as he crunched the grape, he looked to Raisa for witness, and maybe a little applause.

She shook her greying head at him, smiling slightly, and went back to kneading on her kitchen bench.

* * *

Felicity didn't know what she was doing.

She walked around her bedroom, hands on velvet corseted ribs, gnawing on her bottom ruby-red lip. Energy zinged, indecision reigned.

'Okay, I just won't go,' she said to her mirrored reflection. 'I'll call Thea and apologise. And I'll see Oliver on Monday. We'll have a talk and he'll say it was a mistake. And that will be that.'

It was Saturday night. She didn't want to wait for Monday. She'd already waited all week. And Oliver would be at Thea's party.

'Shiiiiit!' Felicity recommenced pacing, frustrated with herself.

After another two circuits she stopped herself again in front of the mirror. Little Red Riding Hood stared back.

Black high-heeled mary-janes. Knee high white socks. The clean flesh of toned thighs sneaking up under a flared red mini-skirt, black corset crossing white, capped-sleaved shirt. Red, red hooded cloak. Hair loose, eyes huge and contacted. Top lip darker than the bottom, where the lipstick had been smudged away.

Felicity thought the costume looked cute. She looked a little insane around the eyes, but cute.

'Still, what am I doing?' she asked herself. She couldn't have a serious conversation with Oliver in this get-up.

Decided, she undid the hood and felt the fabric slide down her arms to the floor. She reached for her corset ribbon, tugged, and jumped as her phone rang.

Felicity reached for her phone. Saw it was the last person she wanted to speak to at that moment. Well, maybe second last. Nope, last, definitely-

'Felicity, it's Thea.'

Felicity felt her nervousness scamper away, bullied by resignation.

'Hi Thea.'

'So just checking you were still coming tonight. And if you need a lift or anything?'

Did this girl have a sixth sense? Cameras in her bedroom? What the hell?

'Yep, yep, still coming,' Felicity's fingers began retying her corset.

'Fantastic. It's gonna be awesome. Are you alright to get here? Or I can send Tommy by to pick you up?'

'No, no, thanks, I'm fine. I can get there on my own.'

'Well, great. I looking forward to seeing you. And Ollie was asking about you before, so I'm sure he'll be happy to see you too.' Iron in fire.

'Oh.' Felicity, word-lost.

On the other side of the city, Thea smiled.

'Are you okay Felicity?'

'Yes. Yes, sure, fine. Um, I have to go and finish getting ready. I'll see you - soon.'

'Okay, bye Felicity.'

'Bye, Thea.'

End call.

End Oliver avoidance.

End week from the hell of purgatory. Hopefully.

'I need a drink.'

Felicity's reflection concurred.


	3. Chapter 3

**So my dogs are all gently snoring - not one in unison of course - and there's a mellow Tuesday night breeze coming in the bedroom window. Red poured, though coming off a cold I probably shouldn't. But alcohol kills germs, right? Infallible logic. Better get to some writing then. - Grey**

* * *

Grey clouds lumbered across a hazed evening sky - yellowing to blueing to dark. A cool breeze taunted flamed torches defining the pathway up to the Queen mansion. The massive stone structure illuminated in projected fire; a lazy, hypnotic backdrop to the frenetic energy of arriving guests.

Felicity navigated up the cobbled pathway, ensconced between laughing, costumed groups of friends.

She stumbled slightly, smiling her thanks at the guy behind her in a phoenix suns uniform who steadied her elbow. He flirt-grinned in response, and Felicity reflexively swivelled to the front, reminding herself that this was a party. Where people came to have fun.

'Right,' she muttered as she walked, arms wrapped. 'Fun. I can do this.'

The path delivered arrivals to the entrance of the marquee-strewn lawn, hundreds of guests already at play amidst fire twirlers, tribal drummers and flaming cocktailed servers. The stage lit in willowly oranges, fountains aflame.

'Huh,' Felicity looked around, impressed.

She sensed, then was encapsulated by, a pert hug from behind.

'You came!' welcomed Thea, face pressed against smooth, red cape. Thea stepped back and struck a pose, blood-red swarovski crystals glinting from the tail to the horns of her she-devil costume.

'Oh my god, you look- amazing!' Felicity laughed, after she had turned to face her onslaughter.

'Thank you,' Thea bobbed proudly.

'How many crystals are there?' Felicity, curious, automatically began to calculate number of crystals per square. Then cost per crystal.

'Oh, lots,' Thea dismissed the details, linking her arm through the blonde's, and swept them towards the crowd, swiping a proffered champagne as she passed.

Felicity, less gracefully, took a champagne from a waiter on her side, and sipped tickling bubbles.

'I love your costume, by the way. Very cute/sexy. Ollie's gonna flip!' Thea smiled at guests as she passed, beelining towards the master marquee.

Felicity halted them. 'Thea. I came to this party for you. Not for Oliver. And not for you to trouble-make.' So some of that at least was true.

'Okay, okay,' Thea shrugged, starting them moving again, smiling, thanking people as they congratulated and complimented.

* * *

Tommy propped himself against the black bar, enjoying his vantage point. The smiling, colourful, fun-loving vibe of the party. He cradled his formerly-flaming lamborghini, and smiled at a clutch of baywatch-clad babes signalling him with eyes and body language.

He shifted his weight to come hither, when his vision caught a thoroughly-pissed looking Oliver bearing down on him.

Tommy shifted back to prop once more. He sipped calmly.

'Okay, I've had my ass grabbed five times and three different women - and one guy - have asked if I'm the stripper!' Oliver greeted.

Tommy laughed out his drink.

'And that was just walking from the house to here! What the hell were you thinking?!' Oliver ranted on.

Tommy surveyed his fire-fighter-clad best friend, then looked down at his own fire-chief costume. Eh, they looked hot. And at a party like this, it'd be like shooting fish in a barrel. Setting match to a haystack. It was time Oliver had some fun, and Tommy had taken it as his responsibility - nay, his duty - to make sure his friend let loose a little.

Tommy turned to the bar of brightly lit bottles and nodded to the bartender. 'Two backdrafts.'

Oliver lost some steam and settled in on the stool next to his dark haired friend. 'I thought you said we'd be doing Steve McQueen and Paul Newman from The Towering Inferno? You know, I'd be Newman as the architect?'

'Yeah, no. I changed my mind. I mean, it's still fine for me to be the fire chief, but we'd then have to spend half the night explaining to 20-year-olds who you were, and what the movie was about, and frankly, I couldn't be assed. This was easier. And,' he waggled eyebrows, 'we're firemen.'

His shot was blown and downed.

Oliver shook his head. 'Why do I keep trusting you with this stuff?', downing his own shot.

'I honestly have no idea,' Tommy grinned at his blonde friend. Fire out, Oliver smiled begrudgingly back.

'Seriously, whatever I make in tips tonight, I'm keeping,' Oliver deadpanned.

Tommy laughed incredulously, 'Was that a joke? An honest-to-god real life joke from Oliver Queen?'

'Just quit while you're-' Oliver's voice faded as a devil and a little red emerged from the crowd, heading towards the bar. Felicity, looking delectable, was the last thing he was ready for.

'Whoa,' Tommy breathed. 'Betcha wishing you were the big, bad wolf right about now.'

Oliver swallowed and stood, pulling his face into charming, fake smile.

'Happy birthday little sis,' he said, arms out to pull Thea into a hug. His blue eyes not leaving Felicity. She was was smiling politely at the siblings, fiddling fingers, refusing to meet his eyes.

Thea pulled out of his embrace and swirled glittering red for Tommy. 'Whaddya think, Merlyn?'

'That I couldn't think of a more apt costume for you, little one. It is a costume, right? We haven't interrupted you on one of your sojourns to home sweet fiery hell, have we?'

'Nooo,' Thea huffed, pulling a face at him, attempting to hit him with her pointed tail.

'You look gorgeous, mini Queen, happy birthday,' Tommy softened, sincere.

'Great. Then you can take me for a dance.' Thea grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him towards the dancefloor, Tommy grabbing his helmet before it slipped from his head.

Frozen, Oliver and Felicity found themselves shockingly bare and alone. Amidst music, laughter and voices of hundreds.

Felicity chanced up to look at the man in front of her properly. Oliver as a firefighter. Were they trying to kill her?

Oliver was apparently speaking to her.

'Sorry, what?'

'I said, would you like a drink?' His arm showcasing the bar, sleeve knocking over his empty shot glass. She smiled as Oliver swore and righted the glass, attention-getting the busy bartender as he did.

Clumsy Oliver. Who knew?

He shook his head, eyes downcast, smiling sheepishly. Then looked up at her. 'So, drink?'

Felicity edged nearer and sat herself on the red barstool, facing towards him, smoothing down her short skirt as she did. 'Whatever you're having,' she nodded.

Oliver ordered drinks and sat back down on his stool, nerves coursing his alcohol-opened veins.

Silence timed against the drumbeats.

'So, you're feeling better?' Oliver asked. Safe.

'Yeah, it was just a cold.'

'Good, good. We missed you. At work, and, you know, after work - at our other work.'

'Okay,' Felicity smiled a little at the oddity of nervous Oliver.

'So, um...'

'Oliver. Are we going to talk about the other night?' Felicity burst.

Oliver's eyes widened. 'The other night. Right. Yeah, we...we should.'

'Cos I assume it was just one of those things, and you think it was a mistake and we should just forget about it and get back to normal and not worry about it.'

Oliver stared at her.

'Is that about right? Oliver?'

Oliver continued stare-mode. Then gathered. 'Yeah. Yes,' as he began tapping the bar, trying to find root, stability. She was saying the words he had mantra'd to himself all week. Just coming from her, they sounded real. And like lies.

Felicity tossed back her luminescent drink and placed it, stem cradled, on the onyx bar.

She stood from the stool and looked just above his eyes, refusing to see his expression.

'Well, glad we got that settled. I'm gonna go and check out the rest of this party,' Felicity smiled, singed, determined not to show it.

Oliver watched her red cape retreat into the massed dancefloor, catching sight of a spangled Thea spinning an out-of-depth Tommy into a nearby grinding couple. Tommy apologising; then winking at the woman.

Not roused even to smile, Oliver turned back to his now old-friend bar-keep.

'Light 'em up. And keep them coming.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Went for a lovely horseride yesterday, but feeling it a little today, to be sure. So, went to walk off some aches around the lake tonight after work, and was confronted with my somewhat eclectic taste in music, courtesy of shuffle. Favourite juxtaposition? Pour Some Sugar On Me, followed by My Girl (Otis version) ; ) Grey**

* * *

'Well, I think I can safely state it as a universal truth, that rich, white boys cannot dance.'

Thea shook her head at the tragedy unfolding on the dance floor as Tommy shimmied up to a long haired, skim limbed brunette. His jacket flung...somewhere else; dark chest hair fringing the circle line of white singlet.

Thea looked for a response from the despondent blonde next to her. Heart beat, brain activity, basic verbalising - anything.

Thea had found Felicity reapplying lipstick in the bathroom, hurt-eyed, smile painted on.

Friggin' Oliver.

Thea had dragged Felicity up the grand staircase in the mansion, shoved another champagne in her hand, and had her sit and sip while she costumed-changed into a sleek, red shift dress - horns intact.

They were now back in the main marquee; Thea was doing her darnedest to resuscitate whatever little Smoak party life had been snuffed out by the latest conversation with her brother.

'So, did you want to risk limb and reputation, and head out onto the dance floor with Tommy?' Thea prodded at the flatlined energy of her new friend.

Felicity turned to Thea, feeling awful and apologetic. 'I'm sorry, Thea. Don't you want to hang out with your friends tonight? It's your birthday.'

Thea, none bar of it, 'Ah, I see them all the time. And most people here from the same circles, rather than friends per se. And anyway, I'd prefer to hang out with you.'

'Why?'

'Well, I like you, we have the same taste in tv dramas, and if you're gonna be my future sister-in-law...' Thea shoulder nudged.

Flash-pain seared Felicity's expression. 'Thea, you've gotta stop. There is nothing going on between your brother and me.'

'Oh, okay.'

'I'm serious.'

'Sure.'

'Good.'

Silence of words.

Which Thea didn't really do.

'But just checking. You mean that brother. Over there. Drinking his bodyweight in vodka. Which I haven't seen him do in all the time he's been back.'

Felicity followed Thea's gaze to the bar. Oliver downed a shot and flipped the glass, rim kissing bar. Felicity tensed as a gorgeous blonde dressed as Khalissi, with a fake dragon perched on her wrist, touched his shoulder and said something to him, smiling. Felicity let go her captive breath when Oliver shook his head, smiled apologetically and turned back to his demoned-drink.

Thea's voice cut back in. 'I mean, it's just interesting that after leaving you two alone for no more than three minutes; I find you tucked away in the ladies bathroom and my brother downing shots like his world has ended.'

Of all her words, Felicity couldn't find one.

'Give it up Smoak. If you two don't stop this ridiculous... whatever it is you're doing...then there's a very real chance that I'll be smacking two blonde heads together by the end of this night. And as the birthday girl, I can get away with it.'

Felicity didn't have the fight left in her to argue, or disabuse the determined brunette.

Thea lent a reprieve. 'Right now, I'm going to the bar to get us some drinks. You can stay here - well away from my brother, don't worry - and maybe at least try to spark up a little.'

Felicity smiled as response, but from Thea's roll of her eyes, it obviously wasn't a very convincing one.

Thea glanced over to the dance floor. 'If nothing else, I see that Tommy's launched himself into a specific type of interpretative choreography to...yep, that would be 'Hot Stuff.' Enjoy, and remind me when I get back to fire the DJ. God, my eyes!'

Felicity chuckled despite herself.

'See there, not so grimm.'

Felicity nodded appreciatively, a genuine smile now at the irrepressible young Queen. 'I see what you did there. Nice.'

Thea winked and sashayed to the bar.

Felicity watched bemusedly as Tommy gyrate-hopped past her, grinning, as he too, headed in the direction of free-flowing liquor.

* * *

Forty-six seconds later.

Ashen-faced, Tommy sat himself down next to his bar-anchored best friend, counting the line of down-turned glasses. Eight. Should be okay then. Maybe.

Tommy swivelled his stool to face the bar and looked straight ahead at the menagerie of bottles, choosing his words.

'So Ollie. Something just...happened, and we need to talk.'

'Okay,' Ollie sounded a little weary and worse for wear, but lucidity still teetered on-side.

'I just want you to know that I love you like a brother, and I would never do anything to jeopardise or threaten that-'

Tommy was cut off by a peal of devilish laughter.

'Oh my god Merlyn. You came straight over here to tell my brother, didn't you?'

'Cut it out, Speedy.'

'No really, I wanna hear this. I wanna hear you tell my brother how you just hit on me!' Thea, hands on hips, gleeful.

Tommy pointed warningly.

'I...just...Firstly, I didn't know it was you. I thought it was a real girl.' Thea scrunched her nose at Tommy, who was now counting off on his fingers.

'Secondly, what the hell are you doing wearing a dress now? Last time I saw you, you were covered in gemstones.'

'They scratch when I dance, and you can't sit down in that costume.' Obviously.

Tommy rattled his head to dispel the image. 'Thirdly, I had my groove on and you were the only chick at the bar.'

'-when you came up behind me and sooo seductively whispered, 'C'mon baby, light my fire!' Thea uncharacteristically guffawed.

'Fourthly...' he soldiered.

'Yes?'

'Shush. I'm thinking...oh yeah, there's no way in hell.'

'Not what you were saying a minute ago, Merlyn.'

'Just...aaarghh...I think I need to go and soap my brain. Or maybe volunteer with orphans, to, you know, repent.'

'It's okay Tommy, I forgive you,' Thea teased.

'It's not you I'm worried about,' Tommy retorted.

Tommy angled towards Oliver and slapped him on his firefighter-jacketed back. 'So, are we cool, brother?'

'Yeah, sure,' Oliver shrugged, blowing out flame on drink number nine.

'Cool.' Tommy sighed out his relief, and turned to Thea. 'And you. Stop-...changing clothes. Stay in that dress. Okay? Promise me? I plan to get very drunk tonight and you're messing with my system of who I've hit on and who I haven't.'

Thea grinned at his implication.

'Not that I would hit on you again, because I wouldn't. But anyway, you know what I mean,' he flummoxed, and stalked off before more trouble could find him.

'So, what just happened?' Oliver asked his sister.

Maybe lucidity had tipped over the edge, after all.

* * *

Felicity ran her hands over her hair and stepped outside the marquee. Thea had been gone awhile, and Felicity assumed she'd been caught up chatting to friends and well wishers.

The breeze had warmed, reminding her of the last time she was at the mansion. Without a plan or thought, she wandered away from the pulsing party, and down towards the pool.

Laughter and the beats of music dissipated with each step. She felt her protective tension ebb with deepened, night-flavoured breaths. The flames from the torches cast enough light for her to follow her elongated shadow towards the calm oasis of lapping water and sleeping sunchairs.

Felicity undid the tie of her hood and draped the cape over wooden slats, sitting to unbuckle shoes and roll off socks. She stood and felt cool stone under her bare soles as she walked towards the pool, dipping her red-tipped toe in.

The memory of their water fight that day. His smiling, laughing face. His scarred and inked body playful and free. That had really been the last time they had been their kind of normal together. Before it had changed.

Felicity eased down to sit on the pool's edge, and immersed her feet in the water, watching as the orange-hued underwater lights licked designs up her legs.

So Oliver didn't feel that way about her. Before the kiss, she'd never imagined he would. But she knew - like, really knew - that now.

He'd kissed her. Just like he'd kissed hundreds of other women. It had meant nothing to him, just an impulse, and she...they...just needed to move on from it.

Okay.

Sunkeness bit.

They would just be friends, and partners, and colleagues.

And whoever else - whoever next - he decided to be with, she would just have to deal with.

Okay, then.

Bleakness set.

Felicity felt the burn from her throat down to her belly.

* * *

'Hey there Ollie, how're ya doing?' Tommy had come back to the bar for drinks, and found Oliver hunkered down in the same spot, leaning a little to the left.

'S'm fine,' Oliver slurred.

'Rea-lly?' Tommy laughed indulgently, tilting his friend back up to vertical.

'Yup.' Dozy blink.

'Evidently.' As Oliver began to slide as he tried to stand up.

Tommy caught him and propped him back up. 'Hey, cowboy. Don't let the seat buck you off. What are you trying to do?'

'Gotta find Ff-l-cty.' Oliver swallowed down a dry throat. 'Have y-seen 'er?' he asked, looking blearily at Tommy.

'Felicity? Not lately. But maybe we need to sober you up a bit first, buddy?

'Na, s'm fine. Jus' need find 'er.' Oliver waved him away, and took hold of the bartop to steady himself.

Tommy shook his head in resignation. The stunning brunette he'd been making out with on the dance floor - Carrie Ann, perhaps? - would have to be his sacrifice to the party gods.

'First, we're gonna have some water. And then a coffee. Maybe two,' Tommy insisted.

Oliver dopey-blinked again. And then nodded. ''kay. But then, I gotta go. Need t' speak t' 'er. T' Fel-'cty.'

Tommy laughed at the state of his lifelong partner-in-crime. 'Oh, lordy. That's a...terrible idea, Oliver.'

'Nah, 'sa good one. 'm not ev'n drunk. An' I need t' talk t' 'er.'

'Ollie, I could light a match right now and you would combust.'

Oliver drew a pensive breath. 'D'you know wha' I like abou' 'er?'

'Ah, everything?'

'Ev'ryfing.'

'Shocking twist.'

Oliver's brow furrowed at his friend.

'No, I mean, she's jus'...she's jus...'

'-way too good for you, I agree. And lucky for you, my friend, she hasn't worked that bit out yet,' Tommy, signalling the bartender over.

The bartender lined up a water bottle and a steaming coffee in front of the men, discreetly gathering the empty shot glasses and wiping bar.

'Now drink,' Tommy ordered. 'And once I'm sure you're not gonna pass out in a flame fountain, I'll let you wander off and find your Felicity.'

* * *

**So, sidenote for Tommmmy!-verse - Tommy and Thea are not blood related. It's very much their season 1 vibe/situation - Grey**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello, hello. Sorry for the lag between chapters. Excuses: fair chunk of hectic; tablespoon of procrastinating; dollop of full life; sprinkle of pre-holiday logistic'ing. Yep, five week holiday to the US in - count'em - less than four weeks, including jazz festing in New Orleans, friends-ing in San Fran, kicking about and doing some loads of washing in Austin and horse ranching in Colorado (for those who can't see, I just did excited toe dancing)!**

**So I wrote some of this before the 'ray beds felicity' episode and a line of the dialogue mirrors. But it works for me, so I'm not gonna change it, and just gonna go with simpatico/snap. Plus, in this version, she's saying it to Oliver, so *sassily shrugs* ; ) Grey**

* * *

'One more cup there, tiger,' Tommy trailed a steaming coffee cup in front his slightly-less drunk fireman of a friend.

Oliver's face crinkled like a five year old boy being told it was bedtime.

'I wanna go 'n find F'l'city.'

'Seriously, Ollie, you will thank me tomorrow. Skull the rest of your water, and have one more cup of coffee, and I will let you loose.'

Oliver conceded, picking up the cup and slurping.

Tommy looked back to the dancefloor of diminishing possibility. 'Then I'm gonna head back to the party to salvage what I can of this night.'

'After seeing your first dance act Merlyn, I pray that you're joking,' Thea sassed as she propped onto a stool next to him.

'Hey, I light up the floor.'

Thea laughed. 'Tommy, you know how sometimes when there's someone with awesome moves, people step back to watch them go at it?

'Yeah?'

'Well, that wasn't you. My guests were fleeing for their lives and sanity - one of them actually asked if there was a zombie outbreak.'

'Very funny, little one,' Tommy half-hearted, tipping back some water of his own.

'So true.' Two bass drum beats and a cymbal crash.

'Speaking of guests, Speedy, don't you have a few hundred other ones you can go and annoy?

'But I want to annoy you, Tommy. You know that.' Strobed eyes fluttered. 'Where's Ollie off to?

Tommy swivelled to find an empty bar stool had replaced his best friend. He looked around. The blonde man was stumbling towards the exit of the marquee. Tommy winced as Oliver tripped and held steady on a marquee pole, then launched off again.

'Well, I was trying to get him sober before he went off to have a talk with Felicity,' Tommy admonished Thea for distracting him.

'Ah-hah! I knew it!' Thea crowed. 'I knew there was something going on with those two tonight.' Glee sobered a little. 'Although just how drunk is he?'

Head of Oliver hit metal hanging lantern. Oliver ducked away from the contact. He drew up again to collect the swinging-back lantern with the other side of his head.

'He'll be fine,' Tommy opined.

'Uh-huh.'

'Well, close enough.'

* * *

Shadows merged, morphed into water. Flame cast light teased and withdrew. Felicity took a deep, body filling breath and round-mouthed it back out into the night.

She startled as someone hit sunchair behind her, thunking wood, swearing.

Still edged on the pool, she half-coiled around to find Oliver attempting to right the contraption, then giving up the tussle as the sunchair pretzeled into ungainly and unsittable.

'Hi Oliver.'

'F'l'city!' Jacket-clad arms wide. 'Foun' you.'

Felicity's eyes widened in oh-my-goodness-Oliver-is-drunk-right-now realisation as he meandered towards her.

'Are-' her voice broke into incredulous chuckle, 'Are you okay?'

'Yup. Been lookin' for you ev'rywhere. But you're here. I'm hot though. Takin' off my jacket.'

Felicity tried not to laugh as Oliver shrugged out of the heavy fireman's coat, somehow managing to straight-jacket it behind himself, and then did a bit of dog chasing tail action. If only Starling's criminals could see him now.

'Can I-'

'Hah!' With a rip, Oliver broke free of his drunk-induced containment, and flung the jacket into the pool, drowning it in punishment.

'That was a rental, right? I know, I know, richer than god,' Felicity requiemed, before travelling her gaze back to her strange, adorably drunk visitor.

Oliver's white singlet sweat-clung to his body, and he was fiddling with his suspender clips. One elasticised strip flung up, miraculously missing his eye, as the other gave chase, up and over his shoulders.

Felicity gasped a laugh as she recognised what came next. 'Oliver. Whoa. Keep your pants on.' A sequence of words she never thought she'd say.

'Can't. Too hot.' And with that, fireman's pants went south.

'Sweet jesus,' Felicity breathed, deciding a twilight zone tale must be unfolding.

Oliver grinned at her, triumphant in his efforts. Skin bare except for dark boxers. He kicked off his boots, and somehow got his socks off without falling.

He moved towards her, less clumsy gearless, and swayed to a halt next to her. With gravity doing most of the work, he sat himself down on the edge of the pool, feet and lower legs swallowed by water.

Grinning, he shoulder-nudged her.

'Hi.'

'Hi again,' Felicity shook her furrow-browed, smiling face at him. Not an hour ago, he was slicing her heart. Not a minute ago, she was steeling herself for a life of platonic with him. And now, here they were. Fucking life and its strange.

'Found you.'

'Yeah, Oliver. You did.' Voice slightly high at the almost naked Oliver leaning his arm into hers. She could feel his arm hair against her skin, his hand splayed next to hers on the stone rim of pool.

'Cos I was lookin' for you. But Tommy made me drink coffee first.'

'O-kay.'

'But then I came to find you.' Felicity, who had been staring intently at the ripples in front of her, turned her face to find Oliver staring at her, smiling dimples.

Fuck he was handsome.

What had he just said? Came to find her. Right. What?

She shook her head slightly, 'Why?'

'Cos. I like you.'

Forgetting to breath became painful.

'But Oliver. We just had this talk before and I thought it..our kiss I mean...I thought you thought it was a mistake.' Way to make things clear for the drunk man.

'Nope. Want'd to for a long time.'

Felicity felt her mouth drop open. 'Since when?'

Oliver's smile turned teasing as he leaned in and back, 'Wouldn' you like to know?'

'Yeah, I really would!' Earnest nodding. Recalibrating their entire history with this new little tidbit. What the ever-lovin' fuck?

'Well, you know the day we met?'

'Yes.'

'Since abou' then.'

'Holy shit.'

'Yup. Buuuuttt...the day I knew it wasn't goin' away...was when we were here. In this pool.'

'Ho-ly shit,' she breathed.

'You've gotta gorgeous ass by the way.' Drunken matter-of-fact. 'I mean, all of you 's gorgeous. And your mind. Your mind 's amazin'. Aaaand, you make me smile. And...I like you. I told Tommy I like you and he said you were too good for me. He's prob'ly right, but...' Oliver shrugged his end of musing.

The two sat in breeze-caressing silence. Felicity processing her shock in shallow breaths. Oliver hazily waiting for sounds of the party an echoing backdrop.

He lent forward and ran his hand in the water, scooping slowly up and across, letting droplets spill onto Felicity's bare knee.

She watched, enthralled, as his fingers fell to the drops, and began tracing watery designs on her skin, knee to thigh, thigh to knee. A small smile played on his face; a contentment stole across.

Felicity shifted in her seat as goosebumps raised and everything tightened. She stared at the top of Oliver's head as he leaned further down, examining his work. Felicity's nerves climbed until she was about to put up lost posters for her shit.

Oliver's head came up and she found his eyes, steadfast on hers, a dark blue universe. His smile sweet and sure.

Next, he was kissing her. Just like that.

Hand cradling her face, lips intently moving over hers, firing want. She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into her, or her into him, and ran her hand down his bareness, just feeling him.

She felt his hands around her waist and lips broke apart as he moved her onto his lap. She could feel him hardening beneath her and began moving against him, feeling his groan into her mouth as they kissed.

His hand skimmed up from her corseted waist and began gently palming her breast, thumb torturing in slow, luscious strokes. Felicity broke the kiss to raggedly inhale and when she returned her lips, could feel a smugness to his smiling, kissing lips.

Oliver ran his other hand down side of her bottom, and ghosted it over her thigh. He then sharply grabbed her leg and hoisted her closer into him, riding them together, kisses becoming deeper and burningly intense.

Felicity's enemy brain kicked in. Shouldn't have sex with a drunk Oliver. Bad idea. Felicity's ally body kept moving, immersed in him. But her truth had flickered, and she couldn't douse it.

She slowed her movements, backing away gently, regretfully.

Oliver slowly picked up the slow down. When their kisses were soft nips, she leaned back, hand foreground to his chest, and looked into his face.

'Oliver.' She smiled disbelievingly at her own rightness and stupidity. 'I just think...I mean, I know I want this...but I ah, I just think we should...'

Oliver kissed her again and pulled back, satisfied.

Felicity persevered, voice cracking, 'Just-...not do that tonight. Not go any further I mean.' She tried to read his expression, but his eyes were on her smudged and swollen lips.

'You know, maybe we should get you to bed,' she murmured valiantly, unthinkingly. Oliver's grin broke out; Felicity was pretty sure he hadn't registered anything but 'bed'.

She couldn't help her smile at his oh-so-pretty laviciousness. He stole another kiss from her.

Yep, he was definitely still drunk.

Felicity slammed the vault on her 'fuck it' streak, trapping her lust-filled thoughts inside. She summoned whatever nun-like thoughts she could, imaging up abbey scenes from the Sound of Music. Then she remembered Maria had fallen in love with Christopher Plummer, who was pretty damn sexy for the lead of a family musical from the 60s-

Nuzzled. He was nuzzling her neck. Her purist thoughts drifted away on the warm wind and the vault door swung open. Felicity clenched her thighs together, panting her breath, as Oliver kissed and sucked his way down the side of her neck, stubble gently scratching.

She was going to hell.

And not overly caring at this point.

Three more kisses in, her insidious conscience primly raised its hand from the front row of the classroom.

Fuckity-fuckity-fuck.

With a regret-fuelled sigh, Felicity leaned back from Oliver's ravaging mouth, and pressed a hand to his stubble-rough cheek. 'Oliver, we better get back to the party.'

He smiled at her and turned his head to kiss her palm. ''kay.'


	6. Chapter 6

**So I wrote most of this during a dark n' stormy night in New Orleans last night (sorry, not sorry), after recovering from a few days of jazz festing, painting houses, and the remains of my jetlag.**

**I love New Orleans - second time here - just an awesome people. And the musicianship culture. I mean, please. - Grey**

* * *

Oliver awoke with a sharp inhale. He cloaked his eyes with a raised arm as a heavy pain took up residence in his skull.

His stomach tusselled and turned, unhappy with him. Justified.

He eked a look beneath his arm, and registered his bedroom, darkened save for light slicing through the edges of heavy curtains, trying to reach him with the day.

The day after.

Party. Tommy. Drinking. Blonde. Red. Lie-telling. Drinking. Drinking. Drinking. Felicity. Pool. Truth-telling. Kissing.

Fuck. Recall was a bitch.

Oliver warred with the memory of how she had felt, tasted; and the guilt of feeling and tasting her. The rightness of kissing her. The regret of how hard it would now be to end it.

He didn't want to do it.

Knew he had to.

Groaning with effort he swung to sitting, untangling a smooth, grey sheet from his leg and standing gingerly. Stomach and head still not happy, but shower-capable.

Oliver walked into the bathroom and caught his reflection in the mirror. Such an asshole, he berated. Leaning into the shower, he set forth a scald of water, and stepped in.

* * *

Raisa whisked batter like a tornado funnel, strong, plump arms sure in their task as she surreptitiously eyed the three beleaguered figures - one slumped, one propped, one facedown - on her granite-cool kitchen countertop.

Tommy smooshed his face to the side and looked towards the brisk, busy woman. 'Raisa, my angel. Can ya do me a tomato juice, egg, lime and tobasco by any chance?'

'Oh, I'm gonna vomit,' Thea gagged in distaste, as she blindly pushed at Tommy's arm to move him away from next to her. About as effective as a mosquito pushing a cow.

Felicity, chin on hands holding up her structure, looked at the two sad and sorry brunettes next to her and was silently glad she had stopped drinking when she did.

Of course that had led to her damn conscience stopping her from sleeping with Oliver, so on the other hand, more ethic-silencing drink could have been a good thing.

She scoffed at herself, in her head. Five bucks said he would come down this morning, make some 'oops, we shouldn't have' speech, and she would be left worse than before.

His words re-whispered to her though. That he liked her. That he always had.

'Tommmyyyy. It's my birthday. Get me coffee,' Thea pined.

'Nope.' Voice lip-slurred by face side-pressed to bench. 'Notcha birthday anymore. Get your own.'

'Tommy, c'mon.' Sooky. A beat. 'If you don't make me coffee, I'll have to tell Raisa what you said to me last night. At the bar,' Thea grinned slyly.

Head up like a shot, Tommy looked over at Raisa. She looked enquiringly back, whisk poised over bowl - to either return to batter or to weaponise.

'Black, one sugar, right?' Tommy glared at Thea as he stumbled past her to the state-of-the-art coffee machine. Her smile, triumphant, was cut short by a grimace as headache pain struck behind her right eye.

'Felicity, you want one?' Tommy asked back over his shoulder as he fiddled with the water container.

'That would be great. Latte, one sugar. Thanks.'

'And water toooo, please, Merlyn,' Thea, luck-pushing.

Raisa, shaking her head, put down her bowl and fixed three glasses of chilled water for the hungover triad.

'You shouldn't drink so much. It's not good,' she mothered as she set each glass down.

'It was a party, Raisa,' Thea defended, between gulped mouthfuls.

'Yes, but today is not a party, is it?'

'Nope. Definitely not that.' Tommy muttered as he pressed random buttons on the coffee machine. Hissing started, and he turned back to survey Felicity. She was dressed in a pale pink dress he recognised as Thea's.

He broadened a smile at her.

'So Felicity. Where is Oliver?'

Felicity's blue eyes narrowed behind her frames.

'He's ah, sleeping, I'd imagine.'

'Really. So, he went looking for you last night. Did he find you?' Thea, rallying, chimed in.

Felicity looked at the two, and straightened on her stool, feeling a hedging in approaching.

'Mn-hm,' she non-committed.

'Good. I'm glad he found you,' Thea, knowingly.

'Yep.'

'He say anything?' Tommy smirked, bench-leaning.

Felicity looked over at him, unconsciously clamping her lips.

'Oh, you know, we just chatted. Is that the coffee?'

Tommy chuckled.

'Nice try, blondie. Ah, and speak of the brother of the devil!' Tommy heralded, as Oliver faltered in the doorway of the kitchen, not expecting to find Felicity on his mission to get a coffee.

'Hey,' he head-tilted at her. His pulse picking up a mile a minute; mind dropping any thought of what to say.

Felicity smiled unsurely, fidgeting with her borrowed dress. 'Hi.'

'Ah, what are you doing here?'

'Mr Oliver!' Raisa admonished, looking up from cutting slivers of red capsicum.

'No, I mean. Was there a work thing this morning? Or a call?' Oliver tried to rectify his unintentional rudeness, lamely.

Trying to cover her embarrassment, Felicity stood up from her stool, and reached to take Tommy's proffered coffee.

'Sorry, Thea offered for me to stay last night, so I wouldn't have to drive home. We were just having some breakfast, and then I was going to go. Home,' Felicity explained.

Thea looked at her brother resignedly. 'Never gonna be an auntie.'

Oliver glanced confusedly at his sister, and then back at Felicity. 'No, I didn't mean that you were unwelcome. I just...wasn't expecting for you to be here...this morning.'

'Well Oliver, I am.' The hot and cold was getting ancient. Last night he was searching for her; this morning he didn't want her near him.

Felicity made a decision.

And if it had to be in the Queen family kitchen, with an audience of his nearest and dearest, so be it.

She put her floral-patterned cup down on the bench with a slight ceramic-stone thunk.

'Oliver? What's going on with you? With us?' Felicity, implacable.

'What do you mean?'

'Really?' Anger-sparked. 'You're gonna pretend we didn't kiss last night?' Felicity ignored Thea's squeal. 'Or last week?'

'Damn,' Tommy muttered, all raised eyebrows.

Oliver shot Tommy a warning look, and walked slowly up to Felicity, hands out, placating.

'Look, I was really drunk last night-'

'Whoa!' a Tommy-Thea winced chorus of _'bad opener'._

'-and I shouldn't have kissed you. I'm sorry, Felicity.'

Felicity looked at him, mouth pursed, eyes molten. Determined not to give an inch. 'But you said last night that you wanted to kiss me. That you had since we met.'

Oliver grimaced. 'I was...I don't really remember much from last night. I'm sorry if I...look, Felicity, it's just not going to work. Between us. And I'm sorry if what happened last night confused things. Because I really value you. As a friend.'

His speech punctuated by Thea hitting her head repeatedly on the bench.

Felicity tilted her head, and stared down the man in front of her. 'You know Oliver. The problem is - I can always tell when you're lying.'

Oliver lowered his hands, and waited for her to explain. Unsure of this ground.

Silence waited with them.

He broke. 'I don't know what you mean.'

'You're lying right now. When you say you don't remember. When you call me just your friend.'

Silence sucked the air from the room as the two stared, locked. Felicity raised an eyebrow in challenge.

'The thing is, Oliver, I don't believe you. And I don't think you'd know what happiness is these days if it bit you on the ass.

'And the problem with that, Oliver, is that I really like you. And I think being with you would make me happy.'

She stepped towards him and finger-poked his chest.

'So this is something that you don't get to decide. I'm deciding for us, because I'm better at happy than you are. So just think of me as taking a bite out of your ass...that came out a little wrong, but I think I made my point.'

She looked at Oliver's stunned face.

'Or to re-phrase-' Felicity grabbed his t-shirt front, and hauled him to her mouth.

She ignored the background hollering as she licked a kiss from him, hands sliding up to clasp behind his head, bringing him down closer to her.

She liked how he didn't even try to resist, his warm lips opened to hers as if she had spoken the magic word. He breathed her in and pulled her into him, his shoulders raising as he cradled her face, his hips pressing her into the bench. Their mouths fused and gently broke as they moved their lips in unison.

The sharp sound of clapping brought them back.

Felicity pulled back, smiling. Still holding her, Oliver looked down at her, breathing heavily.

'So, Ollie, we all took a vote,' Thea cast in, sardonically. 'And it turns out you're going to be going out on a date with Felicity!'

Oliver looked exasperatedly at his sister, torn between want and shield.

'I don't want you to get hurt. Or worse,' he murmured to Felicity, flicking eyes to lips. He knew she understood what he was saying.

She held his face. 'I don't want you to get hurt either, Oliver. But I don't think us being apart will change that in any way. We've both chosen our lives. And I would like us to try this.'

Felicity smiled, hopeful. 'So Oliver, will you have dinner with me?'

He weighed everything she was asking of him.

'Say yes, Oliver,' she breathed.

'Yes,' on her air.

'Finally! Thank god,' Thea yelled, ever the diplomat. Tommy grinned at her, wiggling eyebrows as he sipped.

Felicity's phone reverberated on the bench. She glanced at the image and grabbed the buzzing phone, 'Better get this.'

With a quick kiss to Oliver's mouth, she walked towards the door, throwing back a 'Don't let him change his mind while I'm gone,' to Thea as she left.

Oliver's attention spun as a metal spatula thwacked his shoulder.

'What was that for?' Oliver, indignant, turned hurt eyes on Raisa, ignoring Tommy's delighted laugh.

The kitchen matriach shrugged as she served a steaming omelette to Thea. 'Shame on you, Mr Oliver, for making a lady ask for a date,' she scolded.

'Here, here Raisa,' Tommy cheered, raising his cup in salute.

Oliver's look of annoyance dissipated, as a slow smile spread. He sat down on the stool next to his sister and eyed her golden meal.

'No! Mine!' she fork-defended. 'What are you grinning at?'

'Nothing,' Oliver shrugged, pretending food-nonchalance.

'You're grinning like a loon cos you just realised you're going on a date with Felicity,' Thea saged.

'Something like that,' Oliver stole a corner of her omelette and popped it in his mouth, dimples answering for him.

* * *

**So, here ends fire. Earth next. Ready to get down n' dirty in Gotham? ) Grey**


End file.
